


Critical Fail

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Praying That It'll Be You [15]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21978220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: Over breakfast, which consists chiefly of M&Ms, they get to know each other’s characters. Hartley can’t resist flirting with Barry’s paladin, just because it flusters him so much. Across the table, Lisa’s Lillian continues to flirt with Jesse’s River, such that Harry calls an early end to breakfast by introducing them to the NPC, a little smuggler called Gareth who enlists their help to fight something called a blood magician. To no one’s surprise, Cisco’s Ambrose is the first to offer his help. One by one, they pledge their loyalty to Gareth’s cause. Leonard’s Chris is the last to join, and he does so only because “What the hell? Sounds like fun.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Hartley Rathaway, Cisco Ramon/Lisa Snart, Lisa Snart/Jesse "Quick" Wells
Series: Praying That It'll Be You [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562548
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Critical Fail

**Author's Note:**

> My roommate (who's never watched the Flash and only knows the characters from my descriptions) started assigning each of them D&D classes, so this happened. I'm so very sorry, but here's a STAR Labs-style D&D campaign inspired by campaigns my roommate and I have DMed.

“You wake up in a room with one other person. Take a moment to look around, grab anything you think will be useful, and make introductions.”

Hartley can’t help shooting Barry a sly grin and murmuring, “It fits that we’re waking up together.” Barry blushes to the tips of his ears. 

“Just because _we’re_ together doesn’t mean our characters have to be.”

“Really?” Hartley sneaks a peek at Barry’s character sheet. “You think I—or, rather, Kay—wouldn’t be interested in a pretty little half-elf paladin?”

“That’s not introducing yourself,” Cisco complains. Evidently fed up with them, he turns to Caitlin and pronounces, “Hey! I’m Ambrose. I’m just sort of a wandering musician, and I guess I wandered into your room?” 

Caitlin smiles. “Hi, Ambrose. I’m Khione. I’m a cleric—a healer.”

Across the table, Jax and Ronnie introduce themselves as, respectively, Miles the druid and Warren the warrior. Unwilling to leave anyone out, Jesse turns to both Snart siblings (Cisco having invited Lisa, and Leonard having tagged along) and says, “I didn’t know the room was big enough for three! I’m River. Uh, I’m a sorcerer.”

“Pleased to meet you, River.” Leonard favors her with an indulgent smile. The others have been uneasy with him at the table, but Hartley is glad to have him. He seems delighted by their odd little Dungeons and Dragons setup. “I’m Chris, and this is—”

“Lillian.” Lisa gives Jesse a look like she wants to eat her alive. Hartley assumes it’s in-character—last he knew, Lisa was perfectly happy with Cisco. “I’m a warlock. I daresay we’d have an _enchanting_ time together.”

Harry clears his throat a little more loudly than is necessary. “A _hem_. If you look around, you might find items you’ll need in your adventures. Tell me what you find and write it in your inventory.”

When all is said and done, everyone has found a preferred type of armor, and everyone but Cisco and Hartley have weapons. (Caitlin is rather reluctantly talked into taking a crossbow on the grounds that she can’t heal people if she’s dead.) Cisco takes a mandolin and a trumpet, claiming to want “options;” Hartley takes only a flute. 

“Now you have to leave your rooms,” Harry says. Hartley doesn’t know why this sounds ominous. “You can go out the door or the window. Which route do you take?”

Almost unanimously, people do the sensible thing, which is go out the door. Leonard, either out of paranoia or the desire to be difficult (Hartley can never tell), decides, “I don’t like your tone, so I think I’ll go out the window.”

Harry smirks. Hartley reaches into the center of the table for a handful of M&Ms. Whatever Harry has planned, it should be interesting. “Roll for your success at opening the window.”

Leonard rolls his d20 and stares in horror at the result. “…Critical fail,” he pronounces. “Do I add my dexterity stat?”

“Sure.” Harry doesn’t sound like it will change the outcome.

“Four,” Leonard says hopefully. At his side, Lisa snickers. Hartley pops some candy into his mouth. Whatever is about to happen, Leonard is doomed. 

“You…try to open the window.” Harry smirks. “But you don’t realize it’s locked, and in your struggle to open it, you put your elbow through the pane of glass.” 

“Holdup, what the hell kinda fancy inn are we in that they have glass windows?” Cisco demands. “This is set in ye olden days, Harry! Like, think back to your childhood!” 

Harry levels an unimpressed glare at him and repeats, “You put your elbow through the pane of glass. Miraculously, you are not injured, but you dare not move lest you slice yourself open. What do you do now?”

Jesse volunteers, “I’m going to run down to the inn’s kitchen to see if they have butter! You know, so he can slip free!” 

Hartley can only assume this is her first time playing. A more experienced player, particularly one playing as a magic user, would probably have bespelled the window. Fortunately, Harry seems amused. “You can do that. While you go fetch the butter, what is Chris doing?” 

Leonard glances at Lisa. “You’re not going to help me?” 

She shakes her head and, like Hartley, reaches for some candy. “You got yourself into this mess, jerk. You can get yourself out.”

Leonard decides, “There’s a crowbar within reach. I ignored it while we were claiming our items because I have no need of a crowbar, but now…”

“You’re going to lever yourself free of the window?” Harry nods. “Roll for success at breaking the window.”

Fortunately, this turns up an eighteen. Now free of the window, Leonard wisely elects to go out the door. Unfortunately for him, Harry is not yet done. 

“You neglected to put down the crowbar,” Harry pronounces. “Unwisely, you’re carrying it vertically. The top of the crowbar impacts the lintel of the door and the bottom swings out…right into River, who has just returned with the butter. River, roll a d6 for damage.”

“That’s not fair!” Jesse nonetheless rolls her d6 and escapes with only two points of damage. Harry, with far too much glee, continues. 

“Now, in her shock, River drops the butter. There’s blood and butter all over the landing, and the moment Chris steps out the door, he steps straight into the butter. The next thing anyone knows, he’s lying at the bottom of the steps, still clutching a crowbar, with butter all up the back of his trousers. Roll for damage, Chris.” 

“I hate you and I hate this game,” Leonard mutters. He doesn’t quite hide his smile, although it diminishes somewhat when he earns five points of damage. His character limps to the breakfast table, trailed by a guilty River and a laughing Lillian. 

Over breakfast, which consists chiefly of M&Ms, they get to know each other’s characters. Hartley can’t resist flirting with Barry’s paladin, just because it flusters him so much. Across the table, Lisa’s Lillian continues to flirt with Jesse’s River, such that Harry calls an early end to breakfast by introducing them to the NPC, a little smuggler called Gareth who enlists their help to fight something called a blood magician. To no one’s surprise, Cisco’s Ambrose is the first to offer his help. One by one, they pledge their loyalty to Gareth’s cause. Leonard’s Chris is the last to join, and he does so only because “What the hell? Sounds like fun.”

With unholy glee, Harry pronounces, “You now encounter a problem. The innkeeper approaches you, demanding payment for your stay, and none of you have any gold.” When there are exclamations of dismay, he shrugs. “You could have said your characters were carrying gold, but you didn’t, so here you are. How do you pay the innkeeper?”

Leonard’s Chris skulks off in search of pockets to pick. Cisco’s Ambrose stands up, takes out his trumpet, and begins to play. 

“What do you play?” Harry asks. 

Without hesitation, Cisco pulls out his phone and selects Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood.” Hartley listens to the opening bars before remembering, “This is your alarm.” 

“Yeah,” Cisco agrees. “I figured it’s really hard to ignore, which is good, because when I’m hyperfocusing on a project, I need something I can’t ignore.” For Harry’s benefit, he adds, “Obviously it wouldn’t sound quite this good because I’m only playing a single trumpet, but this song.”

Harry considers. “Well,” he says, “your audience showers you with enough gold to pay the innkeeper. In addition, one drunken man—why he’s drunk at nine in the morning, nobody knows, nor do they want to ask—throws a pickle that hits you in the eye.” 

Cisco bristles. “I pick up the pickle and throw it right back at him!” 

Harry smirks. Evidently, this was the precise reaction he wanted. “Roll for your success at pickle-throwing.” 

Obediently, Cisco rolls. “Nat 20,” he pronounces. “What does that mean?”

A genuinely alarming smile spreads across Harry’s face. “Oh, you throw this pickle,” he says. “You throw it just as the man opens his mouth to boo you. So perfect is your aim that the pickle flies right into his mouth and lodges in his throat. Now he’s choking. What do you do?”

“The Heimlich!” Cisco yelps. 

“Roll for Heimlich success,” Harry instructs. When this turns up a five, he continues, “You leap over a table to assist this man. Unfortunately for him, you’ve never performed the Heimlich before, and you have far more enthusiasm than skill. Ribs break under your arms. The pickle remains in his mouth. He dies in your arms, and nobody knows whether it’s because a rib punctured his lung or because he choked to death on the pickle.” 

By the time he finishes, most of the table has dissolved into gales of laughter. Hartley is fairly sure he sees Leonard wiping away a tear—he’s laughing so hard he’s crying. Barry smacks Hartley’s shoulder. “Stop laughing! It’s not funny! We should help!” 

“Cisco just killed someone,” Leonard points out through his laughter. “I think the only thing we can do now is run.” 

They run. By the time their characters stop, they’re deep in an enchanted forest. To no one’s surprise, the little NPC is no longer with them. Jax, who is apparently the only person who’s played before, immediately rolls a perception check. Better yet, he rolls a _good_ perception check. 

“There are two paths,” Harry says, “a right and a left path. Neither looks better or worse, at least not from what you can see. As you look around you, you notice that the trees are starting to shift, almost as though they’re alive. You don’t feel safe here, and you need to keep going. Which path do you choose?”

“Right,” Leonard says without hesitation. 

“You’re awfully sure, jerk,” Lisa says. “I might have wanted to go left.”

Leonard shrugs. “I was advised not to take the left-hand route.”

Harry sputters. “What? I mean, yes, you actually would have been if you’d talked to people in the village, but you _didn’t!”_ He sounds incredibly peeved. Hartley wonders what else they might have discovered if they’d lingered in the village, into which he’s evidently put a great deal of thought.

“No, I mean I met a psychic in real life who advised me that I was one day going to come to a fork in the road, and that when I did, I should do everything in my power to ensure I went right.” Leonard examines his d12. His dice are a beautiful midnight blue, shot through with swirls of white like snow at midnight. Hartley is slightly envious. “I don’t think she meant it to apply to this, but here we are.” 

They’ve only just begun to wander down the right-hand path when Dr. Stein pipes up from behind them. “I hate to interrupt your game, but there appears to be an incident on the pier. Perhaps we should mount a response?” 

Barry is up in a flash. Hartley lingers, packing his dice set back into his bag. Across from him, Cisco does the same. “So are you having fun?”

Hartley considers. Despite his lingering feelings of unease with the other members of Team Flash, the game has been nothing but amusing. He can’t remember a time when he felt more welcome or at ease. “Yes. I think I am.”

“Good, because next time, I expect you to do something as foolish as I did.” 

“I think that’s your unique purview,” Hartley replies as loftily as he can manage. As he’d hoped, it draws a snicker from Cisco, and from Jax, who seems to be listening in. 

“Yeah, well.” Cisco waves his bag of dice at him, at a loss for how to defend himself. “Come on, let’s go see how we can help.” 

Hartley trails him to the bank of monitors. Oddly enough, he can’t wait to find time to play again.


End file.
